Sad Assassin In Snow
by glassneko
Summary: Farfarello likes snow. White is so much simpler than the rest of the chaotic world. [deathfic]


A/N: If you get the reference in the title, good on you. You read good web-comics.

"Um, Braddish? Why is he sitting in the snow?" Schuldich pointed out the window. Farfarello was currently sitting cross-legged in about two feet of snow while it continued to flutter down to add even more white to everything. Farfarello had a knife and was slowly slicing the snow in front of him, very unproductively.

"How am I supposed to know? You're the one who's supposed to be taking care of him. Go make sure he's not freezing to death." Crawford didn't even bother to look up from the book he was reading. "And don't call me 'Braddish'. I'm not a vegetable," he added as an afterthought.

"What! It's freezing out there! Make Nagi go!"

"I don't care which one of you goes, as long as he gets checked on."

"I'm not going! It's snowing like mad!" yelled Nagi from the corner where he was typing on his laptop.

"I don't care. Jen ken pon it or something," said Crawford without looking at them.

"No way! He cheats!" protested Nagi, who's fears were not unfounded. The telepath always won at jen ken.

Crawford was starting to get annoyed. "Fine. We'll do it this way. Both of you pick a number and we'll flip channels for the first number we hear. Closest wins. Pick." They both looked put out but thought a bit.

"5," said Nagi.

"13.46," said Schuldich. Crawford rolled his eyes and then turned on the TV. It was a music video. He flipped the channel. A talk show. He flipped again. A sit-com. He flipped it again. A soccer game. Before anyone could start to yell that they won, he loudly reminded them that it had to be a spoken word, not a written score or player's number. He flipped it again. A financial report.

"The numbers were very good this year, Mr. Belmont. I do believe we came in 6th in the Fitorip National Report, which as we all know, is not the most complete source, but it does give a reasonable"

"I win!" yelled Nagi. "You're going!" Schuldich frowned and walked to the closet for his coat as Crawford turned off the TV.

As Schuldich grumbled about the cold as he stepped outside he realized that Farfarello hadn't moved this whole time. 'Jesus! If he actually froze to death, I swear!' He was facing Farfarello's back, so he quickly walked around to face him. Much to his relief, Farfarello was still moving, still absent-mindedly slicing the slowly rising snow in front of him. He looked peaceful, as if he was thinking of something pleasant. Not at all the crazed expression Schuldich had expected.

"Um, Farfie?" Farfarello didn't even acknowledge Schuldich standing right in front of him. "Are you okay, buddy?" He still didn't move. Schuldich was starting to get cold. "Farfarello!" he waved his hand in front of the glazed eyes. "What the hell's wrong with you now!" He shivered. 'I don't know how he can just sit there. It's frickin' freezing out here!' Schuldich gently grabbed the sitting man's shoulder. Farfarello blinked quickly and then turned his head to the hand on his shoulder. Schuldich removed it. "Are you okay? You should come in. You'll freeze to death out here." Farfarello looked up at him.

"But I don't want to. I'm happy here."

"Farfie, you'll die if you don't come in."

"No. It's so beautiful out here. Look." Schuldich looked around the non-descript yard that was currently covered with snow.

"It's just snow. It doesn't do a lot."

"But look. There's nothing. Nothing left. No colour, no shapes, no distinction." Farfarello gazed at the expanse of white that covered everything. "Everything's dead."

"You will be too if you don't come inside."

"Look, it's so wonderful. It's so simple. Nothing extra, nothing to think about. It's just all white."

"Farfarello. Come in. Please? It's really cold. You can look at the snow from inside."

"No. There's too much colour inside. It's perfect out here."

"Do you want me to have to drag you in?"

"No," Farfarello answered simply, still staring into the distance. It was starting to snow harder now and Schuldich was getting frustrated.

"Well I'm going to have to drag you in if you don't move. I don't want you to die out here."

"Yes, you do." Farfarello's face didn't even falter in his placid expression as he said it.

"What? No, I don't."

"Why not." He didn't sound as if he expected an answer.

"Because you're our team mate! You're my friend."

"So? You have other friends, you can always find new team mates."

"That's not the same. Farfie, just come inside."

"I don't want to."

"Then you want to die?"

"Yes." Farfarello still hadn't changed his expression, nor had he stopped gently passing his knife through the snow.

"What about all the people who care about you?" Schuldich tried a different tactic.

"No one cares about me."

"Yes, they do. Your team mates all care about you."

"No you don't. You think you do, but you don't. What would you do if I died? You'd be put out for a day or too, maybe a week. Then you'd get a new team member, make friends with them, and forget. That doesn't sound too bad to me."

"I wouldn't forget. I could never forget. Farfarello, you're more cared about than you think. I don't know if I can say 'you've got so much to live for', but if you actually tried, you could. I know Nagi would miss you, and Braddy too. Just because he wouldn't show it doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings too."

"What's the difference if I die out here in the snow, or tomorrow on some stupid, pointless mission, for some ridiculous person who cares more about his next penny than his children and wife? Or for someone who would kill a hundred people to keep a secret? That's no more reason than this."

"I don't know. I don't know! Just don't let yourself die! You can't just give up after you've been through so much. Why let them win?"

"Ha ha." It was a humourless laugh. He looked at Schuldich in the eye. "Don't you see? Let who win. It's not a game. And it's my life to do with as I wish. Does effective suicide send you to hell as sure as normal suicide does?"

"What? What, I don't know. You're the God-nut. Which is another reason: I thought you wanted to keep living to hurt God."

"Do you think I should hurt God by going out in a bloody massacre? Because I don't care either way. It doesn't matter to me anymore."

"What do you mean 'it doesn't matter to you anymore'? That's the only thing you've ever cared about doing."

"Not the only thing. I've always cared about staying alive. But now I don't care anymore. It doesn't make a difference. I can hurt God all I want. He can always hurt the world more. And He'll hurt everyone else whether I'm here or not. So it doesn't matter to me anymore. What's the point of revenge that will never be realized? You all have people you can blame. That you can get back at. I have only myself. And my insanity."

"You're not crazy Farf. I know that. You know that. Your mind's just a little overloaded."

"What does it matter? I'm going to die sooner or later, why not make it sooner?"

"Do you think you'll go to hell?"

"I don't see how I could not."

"Then why do you want to die?"

"Because this is hell." Farfarello went back to staring at the snow.

"Then what's the difference if you die or not?"

"At least in hell I won't have to pretend I'm alright."

"Farfarello? Why do you believe in god anyways? I know lots of people who gave up on religion completely after being through hard times. They just wouldn't believe any higher power could exist with all the misery in the world. Why did you just twist it instead?"

"I don't know. I guess I need a reason to believe bad stuff happens."

"Well, why do you blame God, not the devil like most Christians would?"

"It doesn't matter who causes the pain, it matters that God doesn't stop it. With so many people trusting Him and then getting hurt, He should be hurt in return."

"But do you really think you could hurt a being that is supposedly so omnipotent? Wouldn't he be invulnerable to pain?"

"I don't know. But I don't care. I never did. Something should be done to make Him realize how much He hurts people."

"Wouldn't he know?"

"I don't know. I'm not a priest. But then, they never know either." Schuldich's teeth were almost chattering from the cold.

"Come on Farf. I'm freezing and I've only been out here for a couple minutes. You've been out here for at least an hour!"

"Three hours," Farfarello corrected.

"You're going to get pneumonia or hypothermia or something!"

"Not if I'm dead."

"Come on Farf! I'm going to go get Crawford and Nagi in a second. Just come inside."

"I told you: too much colour."

"Goddamnit Farfarello! I'm not going to let you die!"

"But I want to. Who are you to decide for me?"

"Your friend."

"No, you're not. If you were you'd let me die."

Schuldich sighed in frustration as his teeth chattered. "For the love of God Farf! You're not going to die! If you don't come in right now I'm going to get Crawford and Nagi." Farfarello didn't move. Schuldich huffed and stomped back to the house.

"Braddish! He won't come in. He wants to die!" Schuldich yelled from the door.

"What?" yelled Nagi.

"Are you sure?" asked Crawford.

"No, I was just out there freezing my ass off arguing with him for the good of my health!" he yelled sarcastically. "Come and help me get him in! He's been out there for three hours!" The other two groaned.

"Can't you handle it?" asked Crawford.

"I'm not risking dragging him in by myself! I'd probably be the one who ends up dying."

"Fine." The other two came to the entrance and grudgingly put on their jackets. When they walked outside Schuldich stopped short. Farfarello was nowhere to be seen, but there were no footprints leading away from where he'd been sitting. Only ones leading to the house.

"Shit ass!! Where the fuck did he go!?" cursed Schuldich.

"Goddamnit! He must have only stepped in footprints that were already there so we couldn't follow him," stated Crawford, stopping Schuldich's fears that Farfarello had learned to fly. "Okay, we can't lose him. Spread out. Obviously don't go anywhere there aren't footprints. And look everywhere. He's pretty sneaky." The three of them split up. Crawford went around the house, Schuldich looked in the yard, and Nagi searched around the road. They had had no luck when Schuldich noticed blood dripping from a tree. 'Well now. Trees don't usually bleed.' Near the middle of the pine tree Schuldich could make out a figure.

"Farfarello? Is that you?" he called up.

"No," came very obviously Farfarello's voice.

"Are you going to come down?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll take me inside."

"But aren't you cold?"

"Not really."

"Um, Farfie? Why are you bleeding?" Schuldich didn't get an immediate reply.

"Are you that stupid?"

"No, obviously not. But why?"

"Because this is what I want." Suddenly a knife slipped to the ground. 'Now that's weird of him to let a knife slip.'

"Are you okay?" He didn't get a response. "Farfarello?" He was looking at the tree to try to figure out how to climb up it when a body fell from the branches. "Farfarello!" 'Oh fuck it all! Please still be breathing!' "Crawford! Nagi! Come here! I found him!" he yelled out. And a quieter, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit." There was a long slit across Farfarello's throat along with two shorter lines across his wrists. All three were bleeding quite steadily. Crawford got there first. Schuldich was trying to hold his hand on Farfarello's neck and rip strips of fabric at the same time.

"Oh shit! What happened?" exclaimed Crawford as Nagi ran up.

"What does it look like!?" yelled Schuldich. Crawford covered the wounds on his wrists and Nagi took his neck as Schuldich succeeded in ripping part of his shirt. The three of them helped to block some of the blood flow, but there was already so much on the ground, seeping into the snow, staining it light red. As soon as it was feasible, Nagi took off running to the house to phone an ambulance. When he returned he said it would take about seven minutes. Farfarello didn't look like he would last that long. He was breathing was very shallow and he was still bleeding profusely no matter what they did.

"Fuck guys. This isn't working. This is Farfarello. If he wanted cuts that would bleed to death, he's gonna have fatal wounds," said Schuldich. The other two looked at the bleeding cuts and nodded. A minute passed. 

"He's not breathing anymore. And his heart has stopped," said Crawford after he checked the still slowly bleeding body. Schuldich slowly checked himself, not because he didn't trust Crawford to be accurate, but because he wanted to know for himself. He nodded as Nagi just sat there. 

"The ambulance isn't going to be here for a couple of minutes at least," Nagi said finally.

"I think we lost him guys," said Schuldich slowly. Farfarello's blood had mostly stopped, and was pooled around him. Schuldich unwrapped his wrists and neck. The blood soaked cloth dripped in the snow as he pulled it away. He had to admit that the crimson spots stood out like death in so much white. Farfarello's face was relaxed at least. But he didn't look happy, or at peace like so many people say. He looked absent. The scars on his face didn't seem to be so marked anymore. The pale tint of his skin and hair seemed almost natural, almost healthy in the cold snow. The ruby life that had seeped out into the snow had haloed him in a fiery glow.

The three of them gazed at Farfarello even as ambulance sirens pulled up. Crawford slowly stood up and took short, measured steps to the front drive. Nagi looked at Farfarello's face again, and then stood up and ran into the house. Schuldich just sat there staring. 'So Farfarello turned out to be the first to go.' He stood up and turned away. 'My God, I can't stand this! That he would have to kill himself to escape, that he decided that hell would be better than this life I guess if any of us deserved escape it was him. I just wish he had thought something better was ahead, instead of the hellish afterlife he has built up. I wonder if God really does exist? Would we all go to hell? I don't think Farfarello deserves it. He's lived through enough hell already. He deserves some peace. It's no wonder he hated God.'


End file.
